nofaceberg

If I Can't See Them..

2008-06-06T22:07:00.000-07:00

They must not be there.

Too bad I can still hear. Tonight must have been a retail full moon. Is it legal to shop while heavily intoxicated? At least they bring chaperones.

My night was really not that awful, save for one couple who made me feel very awkward (ashamed). They were both extremely buff, and spoke in one syllable words only. I was really worried my McDonalds was showing. Towards the end of their items (whey protein and extra tough dryer sheets), were two power bars. I was asked to leave them out of the bag.

I had a power bar for lunch, too. Mine had the ultra strength of three musketeers.

Keeping Up with Kicking Out The Jones'

2008-05-27T20:58:00.000-07:00

We have lived in this house for approximately 2 years. Our neighbors are the parents of the previous owners. Should that have raised any flags? Probably, but everything seemed fine at first.

Then it moved on to what I called our "silent fighting." They will park their cars too close to our spots, so at least one of us has to park down the street. It would be understandable if they didn't have a 2 car garage, vacant lot, and the entire stretch of street in front of the vacant lot. It didn't bother me terribly, though.

Now it is not so silent. Not in the "I hate you!" sort of way, but they are doing external renovations. All day, all the time. Now, I'm sure they're not doing this just to make us angry. They are however being extremely inconsiderate. How am I supposed to sleep until 3 p.m. while they've got bulldozers slamming around? Not to mention their chipper start at 5 in the morning last week. I really loved that, I should go tell them how much...

Doom.

2008-05-21T00:22:00.000-07:00

The previous post stating the sudden demise of my cell phone was just the tip of the iceberg. The button did not last the expected one month, and came completely off that night. Verizon is being great about it, so I shouldn't really argue.

My brothers cell phone—double the price of mine, was stolen the next day. I thought for sure that was worse than mine being a little difficult to use.

Today, I spent the day out with my grandparents. I was charging my laptop when I left, as I frequently do. I didn't think anything of it, like the electricity-loving-humanity-believing-moron that I am. When I came home, all of the clocks were blinking. I assumed the rain was a little more problematic here, no big deal. Sat down at my computer and could only connect to other networks. Strike one. I was still connected though, as were all of the home computers, so how bad could it be? Well, I decided to take my laptop upstairs with me to play with the router. Strikes two, three, and death. My computer will only stay on while it is on the charger. I should mention that my charger broke approximately one month ago, in the finest of fashions. I went to remove the plug from the wall, when it broke into two pieces leaving the wires exposed. I have been using the extension cord style charger since. Maybe that was my problem.

Either way, the semester is over and I need to get to an Apple store. It is approximately 3 hours away. I assume I will need to leave my laptop there, which I am not ready to do.

Hopefully tomorrow my outlet life support will still be functioning.

P.S. The first two times I tried posting this, I received errors that it could not be processed. The apocalypse is coming. I'm supposed to send a report with my error code and what I was doing. So, if anyone ever reads this, I was eating pretzels and crying myself to sleep. -d00mxd4y5

This is Your Phone on Drugs.

2008-05-15T15:37:00.000-07:00

I've become pretty dependent on my cell phone over the years. Sure, it calls people. It's also my alarm clock, my way to duck out of talking to others, and lets me know traffic situations. Safe to say I do not leave home without it. Priceless.So as I was casually text messaging today, I was pretty angry to see the center "button" slide off. It was a bit like losing a limb at first, until I slid it back into place and pretended nothing happened. Then I realized my center button is nothing more than a glued on sequin, and not even strongly. It's only one of the must used portions of the phone, why not just tape it on there.
Upon calling a friend with a similar phone (thus irritating it more), I learned that my send/enter/menu/shiny circle only has about 1 month to live after the initial rub off. The phone is only 3-4 months old to begin with.

Drew Carey Says..

2008-05-13T11:58:00.000-07:00

Cleveland rocks.
It isn't news that I enjoy shopping. I especially tend to shop online, as it is just more convenient. Looking for a new home shouldn't be any different. I have moved a few times, and the internet played an integral role in our search. Had I been moving to the Buckeye State, I'm sure finding a Cleveland Ohio Realto r would have been a smart first step. I however would probably navigate the internet finding any and all information I could about homes for sale in Ohio. Area attractions, cost of living, schools, and even tips on selling your current residence—it's all out there.

Plus, Ohioians seem to have a strong sense of pride.

It's not her time. It's Hellga time.

2008-05-12T17:15:00.000-07:00

At around 5 p.m., I realized today was Monday. That is only 3 days from Thursday, which is one day from Friday, meaning I have work soon. That was approximately my downfall for this week. I realized I really need to make the most of my free time.

So as I was watching Wheel of Fortune and cooking macaroni and cheese, a commercial for American Gladiators came on. As luck would have it, the show airs tonight. I was trying to decide whether the show makes me feel bad about myself or not. I think I've decided on the latter, but it was a tough 20 minutes of deliberation.

Also, I'm pretty sure the Wolf is a roid-raged version of once Idol'd Bucky Covington. Unless I am just trying to relate to American Idol, which is a reality show more of my speed.

When is the Last Time You Saw a Snake?

2008-05-06T14:20:00.000-07:00

I am afraid of my own shadow. Amongst other things such as bees and heights, I don't think I fear anything too out of the ordinary. I'm positive if I were to see a snake, I would at least take a good sized step back. I don't like snakes, and would say I am afraid of them, but how often does one come in contact with a snake? It is one of the most common answers to explaining one's fears, yet I don't know when these people actually see a snake. I guess it would be different to fear them, and they probably feel it on a different scale.

During this semester, we learned about exposure therapy. Exposing the fearful individual to the object or situation that worries them. An example used was spiders. Showing a large picture of a spider, having a fake spider, and even a real spider for the sufferer to touch. I am afraid of spiders, but I honestly do not see how being unafraid of them could benefit me whatsoever. Sure, running down the street at the mere possibility of a piece of fuzz moving may be a little excessive, but I would rather do that than touch one. Ever.

There Will Be A Test.

2008-04-30T14:36:00.000-07:00

I've always been slow. Tagged by Margie & Edna, here are 7 useless facts about yours truly.

1. I am so tall, my seat belt hits me in the face.

2. More often than not, I pretend I am with a group of people to safely cross streets/parking lots.

3. I have been beeped at.

4. I bowled weekly for 13 years and am still mediocre.

5. My favorite baseball team is the New York Mets.

6. I want to wave at other Cavaliers, as motorcyclists do.

7. I could live happily off of pizza and orange juice.

Tagging (optional!) Mature Not Senile, Blanca DeBree, ReenaShwina, The Commentator, and Funtional Shmunctional.

Go, Go, Gadget iTunes

2008-04-27T13:21:00.000-07:00

I'm a big fan of simplicity—not to be confused with laziness. A friend introduced me to GimmeSomeTune, and I would be lost without it. Simple keystrokes control my iTunes without having to click all the way down on my dock and opening the application.

N.Y.P.D. Pizza was excellent, though.

2008-04-24T09:13:00.000-07:00

On Tuesday I had the pleasure of taking a school funded trip to Philadelphia. I was excited. Apparently, I considered Philly to be an alternate universe. I bought new shorts, loaded up my iPod, and even had to consider which cell phone I wanted to bring. I also made sure I had extra rolls of film. I packed everything inconspicuously, and tried my best not to look like a tourist.

I decided to forgo the complimentary attractions they had lined out for us. Navigating the city myself would obviously be more eventful. I get lost inside of shopping malls. I spent 6 grueling hours on this street.

Point A is where the bus let us off. Point B is American Apparel, aka the Mecca. I had high hopes for this store. They were not met. Philly stinks. So, I kept walking.

I walked to the end of Walnut street, and decided to not go over the bridge. Then I walked back to my original location, and did this several times all day. I may have turned a few times while avoiding radical campaign enthusiasts. It was voting day, after all.

Not The Yankees.

2008-04-20T18:05:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I feel like I'm bad luck. I turned on the Mets game just in time to see one of the Phillies hit a home run. I wonder if I should keep the game on, or if they will have better luck if I stop watching. I'm definitely superstitious in that sense. I wash my socks, though. Love clean socks.

David Wright is doing great this season. I believe he currently has the most RBI's for the National League. The Mets lineup was seemingly always changing, but I really like their starters right now. They seem like a team for once, too.

I'm going to keep the game on, but I won't look directly at the television. And I wish I had an announcer voice.

Surprise!

2008-04-13T20:39:00.001-07:00

With my fairly recent entrance to the working world, a few things have become evident. I don't just mean learning I can make it through most of the day on a bag of Cheez-Its, but some other experiences I consider learned, and am ready to no longer practice.

Since this one is the most obvious, I will get it out of the way. Gas. I work so I can drive, and that's about all I can do.

Economic Decline? A few sympathetic individuals claim lack of employment is due to our struggling economy. I sure hope that is the case. I would much rather not be able to get a job because of that silly economy than it actually be a personal issue.

If You Don't Need To, Don't. This can go so many ways, I don't know where to begin. I will leave it a bit abstract. Let it linger, but not too much.

Scheduling. In desperate cases, one may be willing to offer any and all availability just to obtain a position. Don't. Did you know that if you list your availability at 7 a.m., they will actually do it? Strongly consider what you're signing up for ahead of time. This might occur to people naturally, but it didn't really hit me until I was waking up at 5:40 this morning for that Sunday morning rush of shoppers.

Technology. I've heard a bit of skeptics speak of disliking modern ways. I usually disagree, until today. I have a machine to dictate everything. The cash register calculates change, instructs steps of payment methods, even communicates with my bosses. This is great, until something I don't recognize happens. I stood there waiting for about a minute before finally realizing the register wanted me to do something else. This means I was no longer thinking for myself, and it took at least 60 seconds for me to realize this. Wow. I might also consider a portable register, as it can inform me when I am no longer functioning on a human level. This could save me approximately 19 minutes several times a day, as long as the 60 second response time is consistent.

Fortunately, I have the next four days off.

Are You Defective?

2008-04-10T20:55:00.000-07:00

So, my current life as an employee for the Man has not been all that blissful. I've been applying any place I can find an application for, and absolutely lying on the "How many jobs have you applied for in the last 6 months?" Well 1-3, of course. I wish that were true, and that any of these applications were producing anything other than wasted time. I do not appreciate on-line applying. I'll do just about anything the internet way, but I feel my job application process needs to be human. Unfortunately, many places are strictly doing on-line applying, and before any interviews can happen, applicants must complete a rather extensive personality evaluation.

This is where I must be falling short. I cannot seem to grasp these things for the life of me. One would think after my many failed attempts, I would at least be able to lie. This is apparently not the case, as I have received no call backs from my most recent attempts. Questions about leadership, the type of people I find annoying, and what I might do in a "what if" situation. I can't even coast through a few with the "moderate" safe zone answers, as it is not an option. Strongly disagree, disagree, agree, and strongly agree are the only possibilities. The questions are repetitive, only varied mildly in the wording. Usually about 100 of them, and by the end I am definitely not someone anyone wants to work with. Perhaps around the holiday season stores will be desperate, and willing to hire the professionally inept. One can surely hope.

Cashier Chronicles

2008-04-05T22:28:00.001-07:00

Today was my first day back after my forced hiatus. I was honestly not looking forward to going. As much as I would like to say today was a horrible catastrophe, it just kind of wasn't pleasant.

The top 3 happenings of my shift:
1. I hate asking people if they want their milk in a bag. I say it approximately 200 times a day. The only thing I hate more than asking, is bagging. Anything. I can't stand it. So if I can get out of one gallon item, I'm surely going to. I asked the customer, and her husband asked why people ask that. According to him, the milk is sweaty and will just collect lint in his truck. "If I didn't want a bag I would just take it out." I was very fortunate to know I'd never see him again. Let's not have grocery arguments, okay?

2. One of the "perks" of cashiering is the gun thing that scans items from a distance. Not a lot of distance, but just enough for people to excitedly say "ZAP IT!" while straining to hold their 20 pack of water. I was given the most unfriendly gun thing tonight. It did not want to zap anything. This guy comes through my line with a bag of manure larger than my body. He asks if I could just use my trusty traveling scanner instead of having to lift it. I sure wished, sir. So after several failed attempts, I decided I would just lift it myself since he did not want to. I thought I was doing great, as I walked back around to the register carrying my weight in fertilizer. Then I realized, he was holding the top of it. I was basically gliding the bag and nothing more. Fine. We got it scanned and back in his cart, and he began to wipe off his shirt. In all honesty, I watched this in complete terror. I did not want to think there could be any remnants of his plant-love on me. Thankfully there wasn't, I don't know what I would have done.
Also, a few hours later I was informed how to make the travel scanner work. I didn't have to fake lift anything.

3. Number three was the worst, and possibly the best. This woman and two of her friends were in line, each with multiple separate totals. The first girl had a son, who was really, really unhappy. He was crying and wailing the entire time, I felt bad. It didn't seem like anyone was doing anything to comfort him. Finally, after his mother informed me I still had to give her back her dollar (maybe that is why my drawer was open?), she picked him up. He stopped crying basically instantly. This didn't last very long, because she had to get her wallet. She put him down, along with her wallet for whatever reason, and then it happened. He grabbed her wallet and threw it. It hit me right between my eyes, with all of her credit/library/bus/membership cards. It was like a movie. I saw a blur of pink and blue swirling at my face, and did absolutely nothing about it. Then, his mother asked me to pick the cards up.
No.

That was basically it for my night. Though, the man with a hardcore Boston accent and the people buying a lobster should receive honorable mentions. It took me several minutes to figure out his saying of "carton," and I won't say what I thought he was saying. They would never sell those. As for the lobster, I didn't really realize what it was until I picked it up. Then it basically passed through my hands in 0.2 seconds. I felt disgusting.

Thank you, have a good night!

Personal Journal Vs. Blog

2008-04-04T21:29:00.000-07:00

Being the internet loving (any adjective) that I am, I do have a journal that contains extremely pointless information. No one knows me and I don't know them, it's pretty great. I don't even allow comments. However, there is a messaging program. Most messages are positive, and I don't completely mind the 2 or 3 replies sent. That journal is usually where I write everything.
But what do you do when something weird happens on that site? I obviously cannot write about it there, and feel fortunate to have this alternative outlet.

Perhaps I should also start a third blog, strictly for MadLibs purposes. Interactive blogging!

2008-04-01T16:52:00.001-07:00

Apparently, sneaker buying indicates traits of a possible leader. Only 3 pairs a year, too. So by 2012, I might have my own flag.

Happy Baseball Season!

2008-03-31T17:36:00.000-07:00

Today was opening day, and the Mets won! Not an April Fool's joke, either. 7-2 over the Marlins.

Wouldn't You Do The Same?

2008-03-29T12:36:00.000-07:00

I have a philosophy class three times a week. It's a life, death, and dying class.. so it's pretty optimistic. We all received documents to make our own living wills on Friday. It was pleasant. But before that, we were discussing the measures taken in America to prevent death, and how it is dealt with. We touched on the basic subjects of 2008–cloning, stem cells, and why it is always best to have a spare. Then my professor mentioned a family who had a sick daughter in need of a bone marrow transplant. Neither of her parents were a match, so they decided to have another baby. Once the baby was one month old, they took the bone marrow and transplanted it. Apparently people found this wrong. I can't imagine being in that position to begin with, but if I knew of a way to help, I doubt I'd give it a second thought. The older daughter would be able to live, and have a younger sibling she would probably never be compelled to beat up.

And in the event of my passing, I leave everything to my furry son, Bandit.

News Anchors are People Too.

2008-03-25T19:36:00.000-07:00

I see a lot of variety working as a cashier. There are the green-friendly folk, who bring canvas bags put all of their items in. I like them, they bag their own things. There are people who are ridiculously cruel to their children. I can't say how many times I've heard a mother tell a small child she is going to give them away/take them back to the hospital and leave them. They make me sick. Some like to tell me the amazing savings they're getting by shopping here, and not their local store. But then tonight, something new! I saw a familiar face. I initially thought it was one of my favorite news anchors(I'm sure everyone has favorite anchors, right?). She bought thongs. I was like wow, here? You? Why? It kind of ruined things for me. Not to mention, it made me feel awkward. Then she signed the receipt, and it ended up being a different anchor who I care significantly less about. Then it all made sense.

Unless she just buys thongs at mass retail stores using the other anchor's name, because that is a possibility. That would be the best kind of identity theft, if there could be such a thing. To be locally famous, and then purchase semi-embarrassing items under another locally-famous name. Yeah..

Intermission

2008-03-19T20:46:00.000-07:00

The Receiving End of Sirens, or TREOS for the text message enthusiast, are on "indefinite hiatus," due to Brendan having a son and deciding touring would be too difficult. While I understand, it kind of sucks.

I first saw a show of theirs without any intention. I was there to see Story of the Year, and TREOS just happened to be opening for them. Once they took the stage, I was floored. There are no words for how they sounded to me that night. Their harmony and perfectly written lyrics had me within minutes. Though I will honestly say I could not remember their name, I referred to them as "The Second Band" for about a month or two. I gave their cd to anyone I knew, and probably annoyed a few with it.

I will definitely miss not being able to see another one of their shows, and not being able to look forward to a new record, but I'd definitely be into a reunion show!

There are two more shows for those fortunate enough to be in that area:
May 2nd - Lupos - Providence, RI
May 4th - The Bamboozle - East Rutherford, NJ

http://www.thereceivingendofsirens.com/
http://www.myspace.com/thereceivingendofsirens

Don't Ask, Don't Tell

2008-03-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

Even libraries have toughened up. But, not having weapons is on the bottom of the list.

Aint No Party Like a Scranton Party

2008-03-11T19:09:00.000-07:00

St Patrick's Day is approaching, just 7 more sober days. Cities, restaurants, pubs, and everyone else are planning for the food colored celebrations. Guiness is even trying to make the day a national holiday. (They need 1,000,000 votes by midnight 3-16-08.) One particularly Irish proud area is Scranton, PA. It is widely known due to the recent popularity of The Office, which is set in Scranton. The name might also be recognized as an area with some of the worst potholes in Pennsylvania, or one of the worst cities for asthmatics. Despite all of this, Scranton knows how to celebrate St. Patrick's Day. The annual parade is on the mouths of potential goers from the beginning of March. But this year, an election year, something different will happen. Hillary Rodham Clinton will be attending the celebration, along with her daughter, Chelsea. Hillary Clinton's father was born in Scranton, which may be what helps draw her to the area.

Weather reports for the New England states have not been all that promising, but heres to hoping for a somewhat clear day.

Scary

2008-03-09T18:20:00.001-07:00

Today I was looking for a new futon. My mother dragged me to a store I normally hate, but I was a bit desperate. We walk in, and I immediately note the unpleasant smell. Three associates looked at me angrily, but they should do something about it. I was totally adamant that there would be no futon buying at this establishment. Then, I saw it. The mattress is thicker than I am, and quite comfortable. As I'm laying on the dusty disgusting floor model, I tell my mother "I think this could work." Before finishing that statement, something blocks my fluorescent light high. This woman did not look happy. My mother bravely asked her if she thought the amazing futon would fit in our car. She says she will let us look at the boxes, but not before she turned down a poor old woman's request to use the restroom. I felt bad, and stayed a few steps behind.

After much debate, we decided to give it a shot. We walked over to the furniture specific register where the happy associate could ring us up. After another bathroom request denied, and some yelling at of other customers, I whispered "she is satan" to my mother. Actually, I more so mouthed it, but the lights still dimmed a bit. Satan told us to bring our car to the front of the store, so the futon could be squeezed into the car. I was happy to exit the building.

After pulling the car up front, I see the doors slide open and Satan pushing a cart. Of course. She must have channeled her other souls, as she lifted the entire box in one movement. She angled it into the trunk, and I got to pull the car seats up as far as possible. I helped. Once that was in and the trunk was shut, it was mattress time. She opened the car door, pushed it in the back seat and was done in seconds. I did supervise a bit.

A little bit of a crammed drive home, but we made it. I also purchased a red futon cover, to commemorate the process. I don't plan on returning to the store anytime soon.

The Big Q

2008-03-08T21:23:00.000-08:00

Thursday night at approximately 8:33pm, i received a phone call from a Wal-Mart supercenter. The woman on the other end asked if I would like to come the following morning for an interview at 10:30am. No, I wouldn't really. Even less after not having enough time to get a haircut. I said "yes" anyway, and began stressing. By morning, the interview process was already ruined. I looked like a member of the Beatles, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

I was told to go to the fitting room and explain I was there for an interview. The woman there was very nice, which is probably why they want her to be the first person you meet. She directed me towards the back of the store under the "site to store" sign, and told me to sit on the bench. This is probably where my troubles began. The designated bench was occupied, so I sat elsewhere thinking this would be the demise of my interview. The exasperated shoppers finally left, and I ran to the coveted seat. I heard the fitting room associate make several announcements to personnel about coming to interview me. They did not work. About 10 minutes after my scheduled interview time, a man walks towards my special bench with a clipboard. He looked a little casual, but he had a clipboard and a pen. So obviously, in my mind, he was interviewing me. No. He sat down next to me and began playing on his imitation Blackberry. I was glad I only partially smiled.

When they tell you to sit under the "site to store" bench, they do not mention it is located right next to the busiest restrooms in the world. I believe more associates went in and out of these restrooms than were actually working, most of them to the women's room. Each woman acted as if they were shocked to run into a fellow co-worker, and greeted one another with an excited "Hello!, How are you?" No arguments about wearing the same outfits. One lady left with a cup. I almost wanted to peak in and see what was going on. The men's room had slightly less traffic, but more frequent visitors. I saw at least 3 men leave and return several times. Perhaps they had a party, too.

The non-interviewer sitting 8 inches to the right of me is still thoroughly enjoying his Palm-Casiberry. It started to play a ringtone, and he began to dance. I expected him to turn off the ringtone, which was infact polyphonic, but he instead just scrolled through some more. Each tone had it's own bench dance style, this was not his first time. I kept both hands in my pockets pinching myself, but I still could not help but smile. Both hands in my pockets, smiling uncontrollably, and someone comes out to ask me if I am there for the interview. Great. I should have said no. He tells me someone will be with me shortly, and then disappears. I don't blame him.

I assume I will be free of the bench bathroom area soon, and the wait seems a little less painful, but my nerves were kicking in at this point. I started to hear this rythmic thumping. It couldn't be my heart, I'm not in a movie. I was looking for anything around me to blame this noise on. Nothing. I finally start to think my chest is about to explode, when an older man riding a Wal-Mart issued scooter with a rollback tag stuck to a wheel glides towards the mens' room door. Oh. At least it wasn't me.

Finally, interview time. I go through one, and feel it went okay. He tells me that he will recommend me for my second interview, and I hit the bench for some more waiting. Apparently around noon the custodians take over. A kind gentleman wheeled his over-sized plastic wheel barrow of garbage right in front of me. My cologne meant nothing at this point. He walks over to the womens' room and peaks his head in, asking if anyone was in there. Well of course there was. At least 6 ladies said "YES!", as if the thought if this man entering scared them greatly. So, he took his garbage cart and exited through the gray dungeon door area.
My second interviewer arrived, and we went into a small room around the car fixing area. We left the door open. He asked me a few questions, and seemed genuinely interested in my answers. Upon realizing this, I tried to elaborate as much as I could, making things up along the way. I'm sure it spiced things up for the both of us. He finishes, and we both go to the personnel room so my "test can be graded." Oh dear.

He sat on a computer entering some things, and had me sit at an adjacent table. In front of me was a book full of associates names, hours, and a lot of other things I probably shouldn't have been looking at. So I pretended I wasn't. He finally finishes, and tells me someone else will be in to do something else. Okay. Then he realized he lost his pen, and went back to the tire office to find it. It was actually in the personnel room, he just couldn't see it. He got his pen, and I got the job. Drug test pending.

Quaker

2008-03-02T03:21:00.000-08:00

posting some posterior posts posthumously.